She had always thought Boris and June a perfect pair...and they were.
Or at least they had been until Eve had walked away...while unwittingly taking her mother’s chance at happiness with her at the same time.
Eve slowly started to cry.
What now, God? What now?
Hunter had given her this night alone to "consider" her options. But of course, both of them knew she really hadn't any choice at all. And honestly, all things considered, it wasn't reallythatbad a choice. Even her heart was okay with it, and yet...
Why can't I just say yes? What am I so scared of? Can't I just do this for Mom and Boris?
Eight years had passed since she had last walked out of this house. And a lot had changed since then. She...was no longer the old Eve, whose mouth ran faster than her brain and would—as Hunter often reprimanded her before—rather cut her nose to spite her face.
And Hunter...
He had changed as well. When she had asked earlier if she could simply have dinner in her room, the old Hunter would have stuck to his guns and tell her coldly to stop acting like a baby. But present-day Hunter...
He had simply nodded and bid her good night.
So what then...
What was stopping her?
Minutes turned into hours, but sleep still refused to come, and Eve decided it was time to take a walk. She rummaged through her old drawers and slipped into an old oversized college shirt before slipping out of her room.
The house was silent, most of the lights dimmed. Eve padded barefoot through the familiar corridors, muscle memory guiding her to the kitchen and out the back door.
The night air wrapped around her like a warm blanket, heavy with the scent of Texas summer. A mixture of earth, grass, and distant rain that shouldn't have been fragrant. But it was.
Her feet carried her across the grounds toward the stables, where a light still glowed in the front window, and Eve hesitated at the entrance.
Memories flooding back with dizzying intensity, and her nails dug into her palms. This place, more than any other on the ranch, held the power to hurt her.
“Eve? Is that you?”
Matt Braxton stepped out of the tack room, wiping his hands on a rag. Eight years ago, he had been nineteen to her twenty-two. It was hard to assimilate how the once-gangly teenager was the grown-up man standing before her now.
"Hey, Matt." A smile came easily to her lips as she walked up to him. "Are you the stable manager now?"
"I was promoted a year ago..."
Matt's tone, however, was anything but celebratory, and it wasn't hard to guess why. "It's been eight years," she reminded him gently, "and I'll tell you the same thing I told Hunter. Everything's that happened...it's all water under the bridge now. Okay?"
The younger man shook his head. “If I hadn’t left that day—”
“You got a call about your mom,” Eve interrupted. “You had to go. Someone else unlocked Midnight's door, and whoever that person is...they're to blame."
"I should have still said something," Matt insisted unhappily. "It wasn't right, you leaving—"
"But I'm back now," she pointed out. "So how about we promise to stay in the present and leave the past behind?"
Matt looked at her searchingly before slowly relaxing and even managing a reluctant smile. "You've got yourself a deal."
They chatted for a few more minutes, with Matt quickly regaining his enthusiasm the moment she asked him about the horses. They were his favorite topic. Always was, and always would be as it seemed.
When she headed back to the main house, her heart felt a lot lighter, and the past...it no longer weighed as heavily on her shoulders as it once did.
Maybe, maybe...
